Red Moon of October

As is tradition, I am doing a horror story released once every weekend for the month of October. This one is a bit late, but is the first part of a three-parter to be finished the last weekend of October, rather than the separate short stories of last year’s style.

Enjoy!

October 27, 2017

Day one of the weekend! Nick, Maddy, Cindy, Mai, and I are going to be with Mai’s grandmother in Upstate NY for the long stretch. Her name is Gramma Doli. She’s quite an intriguing person, really. When we first met her, she was dressed like someone who is still stuck a bit back in her ways. She isn’t really, I promise you. She bakes cookies, and pancakes, and everything. Nick was really appreciative. She even has her own smartphone, and uses it! I think that’s impressive for her age.

Is that mean? Maybe. But honestly, her face is almost completely comprised of wrinkles, so much that you can barely tell her eyes are even there. She’s really the nicest woman you’ll ever meet. She also has this gorgeous walking stick, something straight out of an old western. Knobby old thing with a hand-knitted knitted pattern on it, and it has a few beads and this this big black feather dangling from it. It’s a gorgeous thing, really – makes me want to get my own, even though I’m not Indian in any way. Maybe I’ll convince her to make me one.

It’s a quaint old place. It’s a small brick house, probably the third of the size of most houses, with only about six rooms. Three of them are bedrooms. She already had a fire going by the time we got here, and cookies, and a whole dinner ready. Nick was really appreciative, but that’s because the guy has no actual stomach. I swear he has a black hole in his torso. Anyway, It’s got a huge garden out front, a creek out back down the hill, and it’s surrounded by trees otherwise. I actually really appreciate that Mai took us out here, even though she hasn’t been here herself in about three years. I could spend the rest of my life here, honestly.

I take that back. It’ll have to be a lot warmer here before I consider that one. Probably not having a high in the forties and all the wind. Otherwise, I’d be down.

Everyone else is asleep, including Cindy, who was already well asleep by the time night came. I nearly fell asleep on the rocking chair in the living room myself. I almost got to see a deer while I was here too, which I don’t really get to see back at university. Gramma Doli closed the blinds on me. So now I’ve seen the shadow of a deer’s horns. At least, I think it was a deer. Either Gramma Doli is very afraid of deer, or it was something else, because she was shaking.

Maybe she shakes normally? I don’t know.

Will start homework tomorrow.

 

Oct 28, 2017

I was right. It was not a deer. I should have figured something was wrong with the house, I should not have let Mai take us here. I should have asked if there was something wrong with her family, I…

There really was no way I could have known. I thought Maddy was just tired. Everyone was tired. We drove for hours and hours and Maddy works three jobs. I didn’t think anything was wrong. I thought she was fine. We heard a scream and then the window was broken. There’s this massive crimson trail going down all the way to the creek. There’s deep scratches, like that of a massive dog, all across the inside of the room. There’s still a lock of red hair on the bed.

Grandma Dolli, she says she took something she shouldn’t have. It was the feather on the staff. I thought it was for decoration, but she took it from someone when she was a kid – I didn’t catch what she said, it wasn’t English. But I could tell that it was a very bad someone. I figure it must be the thing that’s here, hiding away in the trees.
She won’t let us out of the house.

 

Oct 29

Gramma Dolli set up traps late yesterday, sprinkled things around the house, drew symbols. She doesn’t want it to get in the house. I don’t want it in the house. No sane person wants this thing in the house.

Nobody walks outside of the house.

Nobody walks outside of the house.

Nobody walks outside of the-

We’ve been hearing screams from outside all day. Gramma Dolli says not to walk outside, that we can’t do anything anyway. She still shakes at night, and twitches every time someone screams.

She cries quietly when they stop. She knows why the screams stop, after all.

We don’t know how she’s lasted this many years without anyone to watch over her. Mai says she remembers getting earplugs and putting wood over the windows every Halloween. She thought it was just a strange Navajo tradition, and says Dolli used to talk of evil spirits. She had always assumed the strange screams were really coyotes. They are fairly common up here, and with earplugs in, even I admit it sounds like one sometimes.
I do not dare open the door.
Oct 30

We put wood against all the windows, and some furniture. Gramma Dolli says we have to wait it out, until the weekend is over. She says we cannot let anyone know what happened. We cannot even tell Maddy’s mother. The police will make up a story, she says.
But they know.

I heard it pacing outside. I heard its giant footsteps, walking back and forth. It nearly shook the house with its massive strides, just going around the house, over and over again. It won’t stop walking.
Occasionally, I hear something like Maddy’s voice. She begs me to let her in the house.

She’s hungry.

She’s tired.

She promises she won’t hurt me.

She doesn’t know what‘s going on.

She needs me to let her in.

She wants to go home.

She’s hungry.

She needs me to let her in.

Don’t I know it’s her?

She needs me to let her in!

I ignore her, even when she starts to cry. She screams for a few minutes. I keep quiet and wait for her to stop. I only sleep during the lulls.

 

O 31

I saw it.

One of the boards fell from the windows, and I saw it at the edge of the trees, standing, staring at the house. It was nearly as tall as the trees themselves. The legs were too long. The arms were too long. The fingers were too long. It was all too long. It was all very wrong. And I realized why I had thought it was a deer. Its face was a deer skull, still stained in a splotchy red from whatever it had been eating, with two huge, huge horns jutting from the top. It also had long hair falling down from the skull – long, red fiery hair.

Maddy’s hair.

 

She needs me to let her in.

 

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THE VENGEANCE SPEAR: First Look

I am proud to show off the first page of The Vengeance Spear, a new fantasy collaboration between another author and myself. He’s fairly new to writing, but has a incredible talent for making great storylines and fun characters. I’m something of a ghost writer for this endeavor. This is the raw and unedited first page of that project.

There are a few hints to this being a fantasy project rather than an early 1900s era historical fictional piece. See if you can find them while reading.

His hammer clanged hard against the railroad spike. Sweat fell down his face like a rushing brook. He hammered a second and third time before taking a quick breather, and then pounded again until the spike was in place. He grinned before continuing on to the next spike.

Kayd had been working here for some time now. The job was hard and the weather was hot, but the pay was good enough that he had a place to live, so he stayed. He’d been a short but strong boy since he was young, so it didn’t surprise his parents when he left the house saying he wanted to help build the intercontinental railways. It was supposedly one of many steps in bringing all the continent’s diverse groups together. It would make a real nation out of them, the government said.

He hoped they were right this time.

He moved to another railroad spike and began pounding it as hard as he could. This time he got it in in only three swings. He laughed to himself.

“What’s funny?” asked another worker right next to him. Kayd was just amazed he’d heard him over the din of the hammers.

He caught his breath quickly before responding, “New record. Three swings.”

“Near the end of the work day?” The worker laughed. “Maybe you should tell those arms of yours to calm down. You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“Mikk’s gotten three before,” Kayd pointed out.

The worker sighed before starting on his own spike. “Yes, and you’ve been here about half the time he has.”

Just as he’d finished speaking, Kayd caught a glimpse of his boss walking up to the area. The boss looked out over his crew with a cigar in his mouth and a furrowed brow. Kayd instinctively began hitting his next spike as hard as he could.

The boss took his cigar out slowly. He then blared a trumpet, and the crew slowly stopped what they were doing. His gaze softened. It was slight, but Kayd noticed.

“Don’t know how many of you boys were looking at your stop watches, but it was the end of the work day as of about five minutes ago. Now, normally I would be letting you all go home by now, but we’ve got a bit of an announcement.”

The boss rubbed his moustache profusely before continuing.

“With how long and hard you wonderful gentleman have worked, we are now approximately a week way from completing this area of railway. After our team and the next one meet up, that’s going to mean you fellers won’t be working on the railroad anymore. That is, unless you want to travel about a hundred miles to meet up with the next crew. Basically, you’re going to want to find other work.”

The crew stayed silent.

“You’ve been a great team. I’ll be sorry to see you all go. “

The boss smiled, trying to pretend to wipe away a bit of sweat. Kayd knew it was the beginning of a tear. “Well, that’s all I got. You all can pack up now, no dawdling.”

Kayd put away his things and began walking home. As he entered the outskirts of the town, he looked up at the sign above him. UNION CITY, said the sign, and just below it, THE PILLAR OF THE NEW WORLD. It greeted him every day he came and left work. He wondered how it would feel when he saw the sign for the last time.

The Fantasy Genre Returns

So apparently my blog is very popular over this past week due to a post of mine called “A Little List of Lies about Leprechauns”. It’s gotten over 400 views, something I considered impossible for any of my posts. So with this in mind, I’ve decided to discuss the thing that birthed such creatures in the first place: the fantasy genre.

It seems like the fantasy genre is finally making a comeback. With shows like Game of Thrones, the Shannara Chronicles, and the recent success of The Hobbit, the general public is eating up fantasy as intensively as the upper class is eating lobster. But where does the booming interest in fantasy come from?

Continue reading “The Fantasy Genre Returns”

(Late) Short Story Saturday: SMILE

           Because this is an eerie piece, I decided to not post it in the middle of the night on Saturday, and instead to do it on Sunday. Also, Part 2 of The Other Side is delayed so that I can do better planning. So here you are, my new short story SMILE

           It was going to be a good day. The sun was up and beaming in the very blue sky, the workday was over, and she was going back to her apartment to finally watch this Jessica Jones show that Sarah had been raving about. It was supposed to be very dark and realistic and grungy. That was basically her entire queue of shows anyway. As long as it stayed clearly in the realm of fiction, unlike that last weird show about serial killers that Sarah had talked about, she would be glued to her laptop for the night.

She walked along the bustling city street until she saw a cab coming. She raised her hand. The taxi stopped, thankfully, but not before someone walked by her, saying only one word:

“Smile.”

Continue reading “(Late) Short Story Saturday: SMILE”

INFORMATION REGARDING NOGGARDS: A “Dark Soldier” Promo

APPEARANCE
Noggards are most similar to serpents, except for their proportionately short, stubby legs. However, they are not the typical size of a serpent, not even for Vaelan standards. Their adult form can sometimes grow to a length of about 12 meters. If these same adults lift their head, it will be over 3 meters tall. Noggard queens are said to be even longer, occasionally growing up to almost 20 meters.

They have something of a covering like scales. However, the tips are sharp at the end. They can sometimes become long enough to make tracks from their belly as they walk. 

Continue reading “INFORMATION REGARDING NOGGARDS: A “Dark Soldier” Promo”

Why I Haven’t Been As Active

Why I Haven’t Been As Active

You’ve probably opened wondering why I haven’t been as active on WordPress. There’s a reason for that. And this may shock you all. I’ve actually been hiding out on Tumblr. It’s true. It’s not that I don’t like WordPress. I love WordPress! I typically have to write something a lot longer for WordPress than I do for Tumblr. My natural style is getting short snippets to put out, and coming up with…

View On WordPress

Why I Haven’t Been As Active

You’ve probably opened wondering why I haven’t been as active on WordPress. There’s a reason for that. And this may shock you all.

I’ve actually been hiding out on Tumblr.

It’s true. It’s not that I don’t like WordPress. I love WordPress! I typically have to write something a lot longer for WordPress than I do for Tumblr. My natural style is getting short snippets to put out, and coming up with some longer posts for WordPress takes a long time.

I hate having to say “oh I’m back” and then not coming back. So I think I found a solution to make you guys happy and my Tumblr followers happy. As it turns out, there’s a way to put your tumbler post onto WordPress.

So it’s probably not going to be as often still. I’m probably not going to be doing the daily thing. But when I do a slightly longer post, you’re going to be seeing it here on WordPress. And I planned to do a lot more of those recently.

So that’s what’s going on. Hope to see a lot more of you guys pretty soon, And thanks for being very patient.

JKR wants us to believe Snape is one of the bravest men Harry ever knew. Which is why I take her opinions on Draco with a huge grain of salt, tbh. She doesn’t understand how what she writes comes across to readers, and she’s really dismissive of fan opinions in that regard.

hermionelf:

okay but like i don’t remember exactly where it is but there was a scene in one of the last two books where it even said that harry pitied malfoy. that all he even felt for him by that point was pity. so the main protagonist can feel bad for this guy but we can’t?? i mean the hero is the person you want us to be like, right jkr? u sayin we should be completely hard-hearted to this poor boy when ur own golden child isn’t? and i mean look at this scene in dh:

gingerbregulus:

this is really true like jkr is amazing at worldbuilding but i’m not really sure if she gets that when you describe a man as “greasy” “hook-nosed” “yellow toothed” “sallow” and a PLETHORA of other really just horrible things, a lot of ur readers (who are CHILDREN) are probably not going to like that character?? at all? the twist with snape at the end was interesting and enlightening and really great because we see that this character who harry always viewed as evil was actually okay and he did the right thing for the wrong reasons and sure, whatever. that’s fine and i get it. authorial intent and all that.

but to then go on to just completely dismiss draco malfoy – a character who is canonically written as morally grey – eleven and going off to school and looking for a friend, thirteen and a bully, fifteen and prejudiced, seventeen and scared, and alone, and lost, and crying to a ghost in the girl’s bathroom – that’s what i take issue with. draco is constantly evolving as a character, yet jk rowling continues to demean his fans. she believes that anyone who likes draco must just be a teenage girl with a bad boy fetish, some pathetic child with posters of tom felton hanging up in her room, because why else would anyone like this character? 

LIKE, SHE’S LITERALLY THE ONE WHO WROTE HIM. LIKE. HOW THE HELL DO U WRITE THIS:

“I mean he’s sensitive, people bully him too,
and he feels lonely and hasn’t got anybody to talk to, and he’s not
afraid to show his feelings and cry!”

AND THIS:

“No one can help me,” said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking.
“I can’t do it… . I can’t… . It won’t work … and unless I do
it soon … he says he’ll kill me… .”

And Harry realized, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him
to the spot, that Malfoy was crying — actually crying — tears
streaming down his pale face
into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped
and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the
cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. 

ESPECIALLY HERE: 

“I haven’t got any options!” said Malfoy, and he was suddenly
white as Dumbledore
. “I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill my
whole family!”

AND HERE:

“Now, Draco, quickly!” said the brutal-faced man angrily.
But Malfoy’s hand was shaking so badly that he could barely
aim.

and then be mad when people sympathize with him? it’s so ridiculous to me, it’s actually laughable, i don’t understand how an author can write a sympathetic character and then just 

image

????????????????????????

Draco, give Rowle another taste of our displeasure… do it, or feel my wrath yourself!

A log fell into the fire: flames reared, their light darting across a terrified, pointed white face –

Malfoy’s gaunt, petrified face seemed branded on the inside of [Harry’s] eyes. Harry felt sickened by what he had seen, by the use to which Draco was now being put by Voldemort.

i mean this kid, this teenage boy was forced to TORTURE people for voldemort. which even oblivious, biased harry clearly saw the horror of. draco had to do this on threat of his and his family’s death. do you know how traumatizing that must have been?? THIS KID WENT THROUGH SO MUCH. HE WAS USED AS AN INSTRUMENT OF PAIN FOR A TYRANT. HE WAS FORCED AGAINST HIS WILL TO DO THINGS THAT HE CANONICALLY REALIZED WERE WRONG BY NOW. IT WAS NOT HIS FAULT. WE CAN DAMN LOVE HIM IF WE WANT @JKR GOD KNOWS HE NEEDS IT